Rules Are Meant To Be Broken
by ShutUpAndPull
Summary: Paula's throwing a party for New Year's Eve and Castle and Beckett, still a secret couple, are invited. Will Castle be able to behave himself until midnight?


_**Rules Are Meant To Be Broken**_

It wasn't a dress. No. If ever an award existed for Understatement of the Millennium, _that_ word for what Rick was looking at would most certainly win, hands down.

The noise he made was grossly audible, he was sure of it, and that's truly what it was: a noise, not anything approaching coherent or constructive. In fact, he was certain that if someone would've asked him his name in that moment, he might've had trouble with the answer. That's how far from a dress it was.

"Hey," Kate said breezily, as though she'd just opened the door in Sunday sweats to the pizza delivery man.

The ensuing lull was both awkward and appreciable. "I'm…it's…" Rick babbled, his jaw left hanging open in rather undignified fashion.

"Shamelessly staring? Experiencing a stroke? Creeping me out?" Kate quipped, filling in the blank he'd left as the warmth of his lustful gaze crept slowly up the back of her neck.

Rick guffawed nervously, snapping out of his trance if only for a quick moment. "Well, I can tell you it's most definitely the first because you're exquisite, I hope it's not the second because I want to live long enough to help you out of that thing later, and if it happens to be the third, well, come here and let me make it up to you." He took two steps through her doorway, pulled her to him with a firm hand to the hip, and leaned in to kiss her bare lips, which she offered him gladly.

His long wool coat hung from him unbuttoned, and the sight of him in his tuxedo sparked an instant twinge of arousal in her. There were few things sexier than a man in a tuxedo, she always thought - her man in a tuxedo, more specifically - and her countenance more than gave that sentiment away. "You're not looking too shabby yourself, Castle," she said, holding back for some fun. "We need to find reasons for you to wear that thing more often."

Rick wandered her form with his eyes for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived. "Detective, no one within a hundred miles of this shindig is even going to know I'm alive, let alone appreciate anything _I'm_ wearing once they get one look at you." He tugged at his sleeve and took a peek at his watch. "And I'm sure it's probably closed by now, but I'll definitely be calling science tomorrow to find out if it can explain to me how exactly it is you continue to grow more beautiful by the minute."

The words of the author didn't hold a candle to the words of the man; that truth Kate felt blessed to know with absolute certitude. "Thank you, Castle, that's very sweet." She pushed in for another quick taste of his lips, wishing hopelessly there was time for much more. "There's some wine out on the counter if you'd like a glass. I need to go finish getting ready."

How she could possibly improve upon the perfection standing elegantly before him, Rick couldn't at all fathom. "Oh, actually, there's some champagne in the back of the limo that I thought we might pop open on the way over," he called after her as she disappeared down the hallway. "It's expensive and Paula's paying, so we should take full advantage."

"Whatever you want," Kate hollered back. "I'll be out in a minute."

Rick chuckled softly. "I think I might embarrass you if I told you what it is I want right now, Detective," he said. Having now admired her from both the front and the back, he was positively convinced that managing to remain alive until the clock struck midnight might just be his greatest achievement to date. "Honestly, Kate, that weapon you're wearing should come with protective gear for anyone who plans on being within any sort of relative proximity to it."

"Very funny, Castle," she replied with a smile he couldn't see.

He spent the next few minutes pacing around her living room in wait with all the nervous excitement of a teenager before the prom. Finally, the clack of her heels on the hardwood turned his head as she emerged from the bedroom, four inches taller and wearing a demure grin, and when he saw her, reality hit him like a bolt of lightning. She was actually his, and he still couldn't believe it.

 **xxxx**

Their limo pulled up outside the Waldorf two glasses of champagne, one lipstick reapplication, and a list of rules for Rick to follow for the evening later. As he suspected, knowing Paula all too well, the event wasn't photog free, and, once again, it seemed they'd be forced to play the chaste roles of author and muse, muse and author, no hands and no mouths - rules number one and two on Kate's list, the least desirable rules either could possibly imagine given the dripping romance inherent in that sort of a night.

The pair walked prudishly arm-in-arm past the flashing bulbs and into the hotel, where, arriving at the ballroom's ornate entry, Kate whispered a final promise into Rick's ear. "If you can make it to midnight without breaking the two most important rules," she purred, "I'll do nothing _but_ break them to help ring in the new year." As her words successfully hit their intended mark, all he could do was wait until oxygen found his lungs again.

It was quite an affair, the gathering of pretties that had assembled to toast to bigger and better, new and different, the passing of yet another year. They made an initial loop of the grand room, flutes of Veuve in hand, taking in the crowd as they moved, each, though appreciative of the invitation, already silently wishing they were back in the limo and headed home. He'd managed to avoid being pulled into any boring literary discussions as yet, for which they both counted themselves blessed, but he'd already checked his watch more times than he could remember, and it was just 9:37PM, two minutes later than the last time he'd looked. Kate had unquestionably ruined him for the evening.

"You keep looking at your watch like that, Castle, and people are going to start getting suspicious," she warned impishly. "The city's already on high alert, especially on a night like tonight when everyone's out."

"Well, I guess it's lucky for the city that its best detective is here tonight then, just in case I get out of line." He turned and gave her a once-over. "And I'll admit I'm sort of tempted because I'm dying to know where you're hiding your cuffs in that thing."

Without warning, Paula suddenly hurled herself into the middle of their conversation, her exuberant and unexpected interruption bursting their brief bubble of flirtation, each releasing an internal sigh, the evening's necessary exercise in restraint proving far more difficult than anticipated. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite mystery guy and his lady cop," she squealed, most obvious the bar had already been a popular pit stop for her. "You two make quite the hot couple," she said, drawing her own cackle of delight. "Get it? _Hot_ couple. Nikki _Heat_!"

"Paula, nice to see you, too, hello," Rick offered in muted tone, hoping to bring the conversation back down to a dull roar. "And, as I've told you before, we're not a couple," he insisted, getting a simultaneous eyeful from Kate. "I mean, yes, we're two people so I guess we're a couple in that sense, but not in any other way at all. Nope, just two adults out..." Kate nudged him in the side with her elbow and he stopped babbling. Then he checked his watch one more time - 9:58PM.

Against his better judgment, he allowed a tipsy Paula to drag him away to schmooze. He knew that he should, of course, the party filled to the brim with industry folk, but he also knew that he didn't want to. He was in a room with what had to be two hundred people and he only wanted to see one, to talk to one, to be with one.

Rick managed to keep one eye on Kate as she found her way to their the table, at that time occupied only by one other couple, who looked as though they'd had the fight of the century before they'd walked in that night. He had no idea what he was thinking dragging her there. If he'd asked her really, really nicely - maybe with coffee - to get dressed up with him and go absolutely nowhere at all, she probably would've said yes. Instead, there he was, standing in front of Mr. Young-Hot-Shot-Author-Trying-To-Steal-His-Job, talking about cover art or whatever the hell else. And, there it was, only 10:14PM.

Kate returned to the bar and spent a few minutes waiting on her third glass of champagne of the night chatting with the wife of an author she imagined to be far less talented than her own. The woman, Valentina, or some other such name that oozed money, knew well of Richard Castle, she said, and seemed thoroughly atingle at the mere mention of his name. "So, where is that delicious date of yours, anyway? Off gathering new inspiration, perhaps?" she asked Kate with a wink, finding misplaced amusement in herself.

Kate played along, finding the woman anything but amusing, but in need of some sort of entertainment until Rick's return. "Actually, you know, I think he went looking for your husband. He mentioned something about wanting to rub Nikki Heat book sales in his face," she said with a spurious snicker. Thanking the bartender for the drink and for returning with her relief just in time, Kate left the slack-jawed woman with a feeble "Happy New Year." Richard Castle's cup already runneth over with inspiration; she saw quite well to that.

Glass in hand, Kate turned back towards their table, only to make it a few steps before encountering Paula, yet again. "Paula, hello again, and thanks so much for having us tonight. This is quite the celebration you've put together."

"Seriously? That's all you have to say?" Paula groaned with booze-enhanced chagrin. "Spill it. What the hell's up with you and Rick?"

Kate's entirely-for-show smile dropped flat. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Paula. Like he said, there's nothing up between Ri…Castle and me." Last names were safer. Last names were less intimate. Last names were less I-secretly-want-to-rip-his-tuxedo-off-his-body-this-minute.

"Oh, honey, please, I might be buzzed but I'm not blind. He's been staring at you like a puppy all night, not that I can blame him. That dress is beyond. But, come on, it's been, what, five years already? What the hell's the problem?"

"There is no _problem_ , Paula," Kate bit back dramatically. "Castle and I are friends and we're colleagues and…"

"Borrrring," Paula interjected before walking off, leaving Kate feeling like she'd just been involved some sort of bizarre hit and run accident.

When Kate finally made it back to the table, her fellow tenants, the Bickersons as she'd dubbed them, were gone and she found herself alone. Her eyes traveled the room until she spotted Rick leaning against a pillar across the way, smiling brightly at his partner in conversation. She didn't much care who it was. All she could see was him, anyway, and he didn't seem to notice, so she continued to watch, her mind wandering the path of their year and all that'd happened - where they started and where they were now, how so many things had changed and so many had remained constant. He'd been right there with her for all of it.

She found herself struck by his stature, his strength. She took in every part of his body, the body he'd willingly put in harm's way for her on so many occasions, the body that now held her at night to comfort and prepare her for whatever the following day might bring - the body she wanted to put her hands on, her mouth on. Now, not later.

Her line to him was far more cop-like than she intended, as she moved towards her target in swift, direct and focused fashion. She stepped in mid-dialogue about Alexis and college, but her guilt over practically dragging him away from the conversation by the arm quickly dissipated, though Rick had barely had time to offer an apology.

Kate moved the two of them on with purpose, as she led them from the ballroom with an insistence he found both confusing and alarming, given she'd offered him nothing in the way of explanation. He could only assume it was NYPD related because he was able to see his watch and it was only 10:53PM. They couldn't possibly be leaving the party yet, surely not before midnight.

"Hey, Beckett, wait a second. What's going on?" he asked as he nearly tripped over his own feet shuffling hastily out of the hotel onto Park Avenue.

"Castle, can you just call for the car, please?"

"Yeah, I'll…." He reached for his phone and did as she asked, appreciating the troublesome urgency. "Kate, did something happen? Do we need to get to the precinct or something?"

"It's nothing like that, Castle." Her tone was one of frustration and uneasiness, but he couldn't figure out what the hell had happened.

"There's the car," he pointed as the driver pulled up to the curb a few moments later, exiting to open the rear door for the two of them.

"Thank God," she whispered under her breath. Though he managed to hear it, he chose not to press.

They sat close in the backseat, but neither said a word until the car pulled away. He could feel the energy radiating off of her. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, Kate? I'm starting to freak out a bit here, in case you hadn't noticed." His eyes were focused on her as she turned to face him.

"Castle," was all she managed to say before taking his face in her hands and bringing her mouth to his. He was utterly bewildered, but her lips and her scent and her hands and that dress - he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop.

It was lips and tongues and slow and silent until they were breathless, save for the occasional faint hum of delicious satisfaction. Rick managed to separate from her, finally, a need of oxygen more than anything else. "So," he exhaled, "I'm sure you have a fine explanation for what's happened over the past ten minutes, but before we get to that, I'd just like to point out that it was, in fact, _you_ , Ms. Beckett, who just broke the two most important rules on tonight's list." His concurrent grin was perfectly smug.

"Well, Castle," she began as she tugged at each side of her dress, pulling upward slowly, "a watch doesn't really go with this outfit." His brain couldn't even begin to formulate any sort of worthwhile response as she slid her left knee across his thighs and straddled his lap. She inched slowly into him, guiding her already kiss-swollen lips to his ear. "Now, you mentioned something earlier about my hidden cuffs?" she whispered playfully.


End file.
